


My Contributions to Quicksand Week

by notastranger



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Blacksand - Freeform, Fluff, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, QUICKSAND, Quicksand Week, dumb bird husbands, sassy banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 04:57:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notastranger/pseuds/notastranger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are the seven stories I wrote for Quicksand Week -- a week to honor the Pitch/Sandy pairing. They're all more or less fluff and (hopefully) funny. Posted here for posterity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Little Less Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Quicksand Week prompt: Trapped in a Closed Space.

On the outskirts of a sleeping suburb, the Guardian of Dreams floated silently into a child’s bedroom on a cloud of dreamsand. There was nothing particularly special about the boy he was visiting — that is, any more special than the other children whose dreams he weaved — but if Sandman had learned anything from Jack Frost, it was that sometimes it was important to interact more personally with his believers, to not forget the reason why he created dreams in the first place. So every night, Sandy floated down from high above and visited a few children in their rooms to grant them especially detailed dreams.

He landed silently next to the bed and carefully watched the thin ribbons of sand as they started to take shape from the boy’s subconscious; he could read the delicate images like a book.  The child missed his father, who was away on a business trip, but was excited about a baseball game they planned to attend when the father returned.

Sandy looked around at the pennants on the walls and the posters of various sports stars and smiled. He’d create a fantastic dream: father and son would be _in_ the baseball game as players, and their teamwork would help win the World Series.

Cracking his knuckles, he was about to get started when tendrils of shadow shot out of an open closet and sucked him into it, the door clicking shut behind him.

It was a small, cramped space, full of clothes and books and haphazardly put-away toys. Sandy brightened his natural glow so he could see better, blinking into the darkness and readying his dream sand defensively.

Pitch Black stared at him from a seated position on the floor, long legs bent and on either side of Sandy, blocking the exit. “Boo," he smiled, teeth glinting in the dim light.

Sandy scowled. He never should have an offered a truce to the Nightmare King, who now dogged him on a regular basis. _You said you wouldn’t interfere with dreams I’m about to cast_ , his sand spelled out accusingly.

"I’m politely requesting an exception," the Boogeyman purred with feigned deference. “I intend to wake this boy so he will in turn wake his mother. He could use some maternal comfort, and she needs a reminder to keep her windows and doors locked at night, especially when she is the only adult at home."

 _They need pleasant dreams, not interrupted sleep_. Sandman rolled his eyes. _You just want to scare him so you can feed on his fear_.

"Am I not allowed to take pleasure in what I do?" Pitch hissed. He leaned forward, getting into Sandy’s face, which wasn’t that hard considering how little space there was between them to begin with. “I believe it was you who said that one cannot have dreams without the occasional nightmare. Well, tonight is just such an occasion, and I’ll thank you to let me get to it."

Sandy lifted up a hand and flicked Pitch in the nose. Hard.

"You _f_ _ucker_ ," Pitch cursed, holding his nose. Sandman laughed silently and hopped back. Unfortunately, he jostled a shelf as he did so and sent a couple of board games tumbling to the ground.

"Mommy!" the little boy cried out, startled awake by the noise. “Mommy, there’s something in my closet!" He jumped out of bed and ran to his parents’ bedroom as fast as he could.

The image of a large wall blocking a river appeared above Sandy’s head and he clenched his fists in frustration. Pitch grinned broadly even while still tenderly prodding his nose. “Well, Sandman, if you wanted to do my job for me you could have just said so." He chuckled darkly while Sandy fumed, puffs of glittering smoke escaping from his ears. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—"

Sandy placed a hand on the wall. Dream sand spread from his fingers and covered every available surface, save for him and Pitch. _You aren’t going anywhere_.

"Don’t be a sore loser, little man, it doesn’t become you." Pitch’s sardonic tone betrayed a hint of nervousness, and Sandy inched forward threateningly. He knew he was being petty, but he was tired of Pitch hiding behind their truce while giving him a headache every time they crossed paths. Maybe it was time to remind Pitch who won their last fight.

But Pitch refused to back down. “The problem with you,” he began haughtily, “Is that you constantly have your head up in the clouds. You spend all your time creating fanciful dreams and so you never think about the real dangers that your precious children constantly face. What happens when a child wakes up and wants to act out their dreams in the waking world, hmm?  Did you ever consider that possibility?”

He continued his tirade and Sandman inwardly sighed. Great, Pitch was monologuing again. This was a more effective weapon than the nightmare scythe, in some ways, and Sandy was done listening. _You’ve said all this before, many times_ , his sand symbols complained. _Can’t you just stop talking_?

Pitch’s eyes narrowed. “Make me."

Sandman slapped a hand over Pitch’s mouth. The taller man grabbed it and yanked it away, only to have it replaced by Sandy’s other hand.

Pitch yanked that one away as well. He squeezed both wrists tightly and tugged Sandy closer until they were nearly nose-to-nose. “You’ll have to do better than that if you want to shut me up," he sneered.

Out of options and out of patience, Sandy leaned forward and pressed his lips against Pitch’s. The other man started to protest, so Sandy shoved his tongue into Pitch’s mouth, cutting off any possibility of talking.

There! Finally, silence! Except maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, Pitch’s teeth were awfully sharp against his tongue and he could feel Pitch tensing beneath him and — he was kissing back? His mouth was certainly doing something interesting and Sandy had to admit that it felt quite nice.

Huh. He liked kissing Pitch. Well, learn something new every day.

He tilted his head to a more comfortable angle to deepen the kiss and Pitch moaned appreciatively, which defeated the point of keeping him quiet, but was such a pleasing sound that Sandy couldn’t help but get a little more creative with his tongue and lips to see what other sounds Pitch could make. More moans, growls — ooh, a whimper, he liked that whimper. Sandy bit Pitch’s lip to hear it again and wondered where else he could kiss him to generate similar sounds.

Pitch’s hands finally let go of Sandy’s wrists and slid along his sides before pulling him closer. Sandy thought this was a great idea because it freed up his own hands, but it also put him off balance. He compensated by sitting in Pitch’s lap and oh, goodness, Pitch _really_ liked kissing him and the thought made him light-headed, so he stopped kissing for a moment to catch his breath and then moved his mouth to Pitch’s neck to engage in more friendly biting.

Pitch started talking again, but this time he was telling Sandman what he was doing right, which was much, much nicer to listen to, and his hands had somehow slipped into Sandy’s pajamas and the dreamsand on the walls started to fade because he couldn’t concentrate but who cared, Pitch wasn’t going anywhere, not with the way he was practically begging Sandy not to stop biting him. He grinded against Pitch and the taller man made the most _delightful_ sound and Sandy wondered why he ever wanted to keep Pitch quiet but the other man was tilting his head back up for another kiss and oh gods, his _tongue_ and if he could pull away just enough to slip a hand inside Pitch’s robes he could —

The closet door opened. Pitch and Sandy froze mid-kiss as the boy’s mother peered inside and yawned. “No monsters in the closet!" she announced tiredly.

She sniffed and wrinkled her nose a bit. “Kinda musky, though," she muttered to herself before shutting the door.

Never had Sandy been more grateful that he was invisible to non-believers. He reluctantly ended this kiss, then peered up at Pitch who still looked like the proverbial deer in the headlights. The taller man very slowly, very gingerly extricated Sandy from his lap, then pulled his knees up to his chest. “That was… unexpected," he said finally.

Sandy nodded. Yes, it was.

"We should talk about this."

Sandy looked confused. What was there to talk about? But if it made Pitch feel better, they could do that. _As long as we can kiss some more, too._

A very quiet whimper escaped Pitch’s lips. “Very well. You can find me later in my bed. Lair! Lair. I meant to say lair." He melted into the shadows, the vivid purple blush on his cheeks the last of him to disappear.

Sandman took a moment to fix his pajamas before exiting the closet and floating down the hallway to the master bedroom. As he suspected, the boy had climbed into bed with his mother and both were sleeping soundly. He carefully crafted the dream he had planned for the boy, then sprinkled a bit of dreamsand on the mother for good measure.

The sand above her head shaped into an image of her husband, and the greeting her dream-image gave him quickly turned explicit. Sandman raised a hand to his mouth. Oops. Well, he had to put all that energy somewhere, and she was an adult. Her husband would certainly appreciate it later.

He returned to his cloud of dreamsand in the sky and thought about his future encounter with Pitch. He’d keep the amount of talking to a minimum, for sure.


	2. A Night With the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This fanfic is for the Quicksand Week daily prompt Date Scene. It a sequel of sorts to my AU fic Adventures in Babysitting, which can be found here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/803543.

It turned out that asking Sandy on a date was the _easy_ part.

Granted, Kozmotis had been (unwillingly) helped by five seven-year-olds and a thirteen-year-old troublemaker, but Sandy was very amenable to his advances. After agreeing on a day and time, Sandy told Kozmo to pick whatever he wanted to do for their evening out.

Which was the problem. It had been long enough since he had gone on a date that he was drawing a blank on where they could go. His many hours writing supernatural horror didn’t help him come up with any (good) ideas. There was the standard date activity of going to the movies, but nothing was out that he wanted to see, and he wasn’t about to pay a premium to watch mindless schlock. Although the prospect of sitting in a dark theater with his hand in Sandy’s was awfully appealing…

Something Sandy had said once about an astronomy exhibit sparked an idea in Kozmo’s mind. Maybe there was a way to get the benefits of a movie date without going to a movie, after all.

~*~

At 7pm sharp, Kozmo rang Sandy’s doorbell and had just enough time to tuck an errant lock of black hair behind an ear before the door opened. Sandy smiled up at him, taking in his dress pants, button-down shirt, and corduroy sport coat. “Hi. You look very nice. I’m not underdressed for our night out, am I?”

It took a moment for Kozmo to disengage from Sandy’s smile. The smaller man had traded his usual tie-dye shirt and jeans for khakis and a purple tunic. “No, not at all. You look adorable,” he answered, only realizing too late how unflattering that might sound. “Ah, I mean –“

Sandy laughed and waved off his worry. “Adorable’s fine, I’ll take it.” He shut and locked his door. “So. Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” Kozmo smiled, regaining his composure.

~*~

Sandy figured it out by the time they reached the science museum. “The Planetarium,” he breathed, beaming like a kid at Christmas.

“You did say you wanted to see the stars.” Kozmo grinned, relieved that Sandy approved of his choice. He purchased two tickets for the distant galaxies program and because the show was starting soon, they wasted little time in getting seats. Sandy took his hand as the lights dimmed and Kozmo bit his lip to keep from smiling like an idiot.

The show was interesting, but not quite as captivating as Sandy, who stared in wonder at the spiral galaxies that lazily spun across the screen, the nebulas that cradled the birth of new stars, and the blazing comets that sped into the far reaches of space. Kozmo couldn’t stop sneaking glances at him, and only returned his attention to the screen when the narrator starting explaining the anatomy of a dying galaxy.

He felt Sandy lightly stroke the back of his hand with his thumb and realized that he didn’t care if it was the Milky Way that was imploding, he was quite happy where he was.

After the show, Kozmo and Sandy took a stroll outside. They talked about the stars, their current projects, and everything and nothing in between. Sandy still had his hand in Kozmo’s, but when they passed by an ice cream shop, he let go to clap excitedly. “Oh, ice cream! Yes. Let’s get some.”

Kozmo chuckled and followed his date inside. But when it came time to pay for their desserts, Sandy shoved Kozmo’s money away and took out his own wallet. “This is on me.”

“I asked you out on this date,” Kozmo protested. “I’m supposed to pay.”

Sandy shrugged. “Okay, so your date with me ended and now this is my date with you.”

Kozmo rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“Generous,” Sandy grinned, passing over Kozmo’s cone filled with dark chocolate ripple. “The word you’re looking for is generous.”

~*~

Standing outside Sandy’s door, Kozmo pressed a gentlemanly kiss to the other man’s lips and wrapped his arms around him in a loose hug, reluctant to say goodnight.

“Would you like to come in for a while?” Sandy asked, running his hands along Kozmo’s lapels.

“I would. Is that all right? This is our first date, after all.”

“Third,” Sandy corrected.

Kozmo blinked. “How do you figure that?”

“Well, our first date was at Tooth’s house, watching the girls. The second date was the planetarium – lovely idea, by the way – and the third date was ice cream. So,” He pulled on Kozmo’s jacket just enough to bring them flush against one another. “If you came in, it would not sully our reputations in the least.”

“That’s a relief,” Kozmo laughed breathlessly. He tilted his head down to kiss Sandy again, less gentlemanly than before. “Best to go in then.”

“Yes.” Sandy pulled out of Kozmo’s hug to unlock his door, then flashed him another grin. “Besides, I think I need to correct you on calling me adorable.”

Kozmo nodded mutely, taking Sandy’s hand and allowing himself to be led inside. It didn’t matter to him what date they were on. This one was his best, easily.


	3. Following the Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Quicksand Week prompt: White Elephant.

North’s annual after-Christmas party for the Guardians traditionally involved a gift exchange, but due to everyone’s busy work schedule, it made more sense to turn things into a game, and Jack was only too happy to participate.

"I’ve heard it called Yankee Swap," he commented, adding his present to the pile in the table in front of him. “Which is kind of funny because I don’t remember anyone in my town doing something like this."

North counted the wrapped packages on the table. “Ah, six. Good. Everyone ready?" He lifted up a sheet of parchment. “Phil was kind enough to make random order of participants. So this year, first person to select handmade present is…" His gaze drifted over to the brooding figure at the other end of the table, “Pitch."

The Nightmare King lessened his frown slightly at the prospect of going first and selected one of the gifts. His careful unwrapping revealed a small watercolor painting of a verdant field dotted with flowers. He obligingly turned it around to show the Guardians.

"Oh, Bunny, did you paint that? It’s lovely," Tooth gushed.

"Yes, wonderful," Pitch purred sarcastically. “I can’t wait to hang it on my wall, it will go so well with my decor."

North set the parchment on the table. “Well, if you are not liking it, Pitch, then I will save you trouble as I am next on list." He snatched the painting out of Pitch’s hands and held it up admiringly. “Is very nice, Bunny! Will look good on office wall."

"Thanks, mate," Bunny smiled, pleased by the praise.

Pitch snorted. “I suppose I have to select another present since I had mine stolen," he groused, and plucked another package from the table. Inside was an egg-shaped wooden carving. “Behold, a baked potato with eyes," he commented flatly.

"It’s an Egg Sentinel," Jack muttered, rubbing the back of his neck and keeping his gaze down. “I would have made it out of ice, but that would have melted, so I had to settle for wood."

"It’s _obviously_ an egg sentinel, and a jolly one at that." Bunny announced, patting Jack on the shoulder reassuringly before reaching over and grabbing the sculpture. “And since I’m next on the list and ol’ Scrooge here couldn’t appreciate a good present if it bit him on his bony rear, I’ll take it for myself."

Pitch glowered while Jack and Bunny shared a laugh. “Is this going to be round after round of people stealing presents from me?"

"Is part of the fun!" North replied jovially. “Go on, select present, then it will be Tooth’s turn."

Pitch sighed melodramatically and picked up another decorated box. “I’m sure I’ll desire it as much as the first two," he remarked dryly as he meticulously unwrapped it and lifted the lid.

Nestled inside a layer of crepe paper was a glass bowl, delicate and golden. Pitch held it up and its translucent surface shimmered in the light.

Jack let out a low, appreciative whistle, then gave Sandman a gentle nudge, waking the little man from his light doze. “Did you make that from your dreamsand?” he asked, and Sandy nodded before looking over at Pitch with a hopeful expression.

"It’s lovely," Pitch murmured without a hint of sarcasm, tracing the bowl’s lip with one long, gray finger. “Just lovely.”

Sandy beamed.

"I’m next!" Tooth exclaimed, clapping her hands. Pitch unconsciously tightened his grip on the glass bowl, but Tooth made no move to steal it, instead fluttering to the pile of remaining presents and picking one. Wings still abuzz, she unwrapped the box and lifted up a delicately crafted ballerina figurine. A wind of the key on its back and the tiny dancer spun on its axis before dipping into a graceful bow.

“Oi, North! I thought we said nothing fancy this year?” Bunny complained.

North waved off his protest. “Was no trouble to make,” he smiled, eyes twinkling. “Do you like it?” he asked the colorful guardian, and she nodded wordlessly, her brilliant smile more of a compliment than anything she could think to say.

There were only two presents left on the table. Jack picked the bigger one, tearing off the wrapping paper enthusiastically. “Oh, wow,” he said, holding up the shimmering scarf. “You knitted this yourself, Tooth?”

“I may have had a little help from my girls,” Tooth admitted modestly. “Do you like it?”

“Like it? I love it.” Jack wrapped the scarf around his neck and wagged a finger at Sandman jokingly. “Don’t even think of trying to steal it from me.”

The dream-weaver giggled silently and floated over to the final present, opening it once he returned to his seat. Inside the slick black packaging was a bar of high-quality artisanal chocolate.

“You _made_ a chocolate bar?” Bunny asked skeptically, once again sticking up for the rules.

Pitch smiled darkly. “The production of that particular confection was going to be discontinued, but I gave the store’s owner a rather good fright and he changed his mind, so yes, I made that chocolate bar.”

Bunny rolled his eyes.

“Good white-elephant swap, everyone!” North clapped his hands. “Yetis have set up refreshments as usual, so –“

“Ah, ah. Not so fast.” Pitch tsked disapprovingly. “As the first person to select a present, it is now my right to steal one.”

“Yes, but…” North stalled.

“It’s in the rules,” Pitch insisted, a wicked smile on his face. “Now, whose present shall I separate from its current owner…”

Jack frowned defiantly and Tooth held the ballerina figurine to her chest. “Relax,” Pitch smirked. “As tempting as it is to inject some genuine fear into this frivolous game, all I want is my chocolate back.”

He turned towards Sandy, who had unwrapped the chocolate bar and was about to take a bite.

“Hey!” Pitch knocked the candy away from Sandy’s mouth with a shadowy tendril. The dream-weaver scowled at him, but Pitch was undeterred. “I have the right to steal it, little man. Hand it over.”

Sandman raised his eyebrows and demurely placed the chocolate bar on the table, then snatched it away with his dreamsand just as Pitch reached for it.

“Cheater!” Pitch slapped the now empty spot on the table. He lunged for the chocolate, only to have it once again yanked out of reach. “Give it to me, you glittering menace!”

Sandy didn’t bother with symbols; his expression clearly said _Make me_. And Pitch intended to, dashing around the table and throwing shadows at the dream-weaver who countered with his golden sand. The other Guardians backed out of the way, not wanting to get in the middle of the escalating confrontation.

Pitch finally cornered Sandy and, fueled by his frustration, tackled the smaller man to the ground. They rolled underneath the table, Pitch ending up pressed atop the dream-weaver who still maintained his grip on the chocolate bar. “Give. Me. That,” the Bogeyman snarled, teeth bared.

Sandy grinned defiantly, breaking off a piece of chocolate in his mouth. Pitch barely had time to curse before the dream-weaver pulled his head down and shoved the other end of the bite into Pitch’s surprised mouth.

There was a long, awkward moment in which Pitch wasn’t sure what to do, but the rich taste of chocolate and the arousing ministrations of Sandy’s mouth soon overcame his inhibitions, and once the confection had been thoroughly consumed, Pitch fed the eager dream-weaver another bite.

The Guardians were thankfully spared from witnessing their unorthodox method of eating chocolate, although the golden hearts floating up from under the table gave them a general idea of what was happening.

“This is three years in a row now,” Bunny sighed, pulling down his ears in annoyance. “Blimey, North! Can’t you stop this from happening?”

“I try!” North protested. “But one of them always brings chocolate as gift! I thought for sure handmade rule would change things…”

“At least they’re under the table this time,” Jack mused, lightly batting away one of the golden hearts with his staff.

“Yeah,” Tooth murmured, sounding somewhat disappointed.

“How about we leave lovebirds alone for now,” North suggested, heading out of the room. “Is not huge chocolate bar, they will join us soon.”

“Or stay under the table if they know what’s good for them,” Bunny muttered, following North.

Tooth lingered a moment, head tilted slightly, until Jack took her arm. “You can remind them to brush later,” he quipped, leading her out of the room.

North was right; it was not a huge chocolate bar. But Pitch and Sandy certainly made it last.


	4. A Day at the Beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Quicksand Week Lyric Prompt:
> 
> "I was a heavy heart to carry  
> But he never let me down  
> When he had me in his arms  
> My feet never touched the ground"
> 
> \- Heavy In Your Arms, Florence & the Machine

It was Sandy’s suggestion for the Guardians to spend an afternoon on his island for a change of scenery. North readily agreed as it was just a week after Christmas and he needed to unwind. He showed up early in a pair of Hawaiian-print board shorts and a large sunhat, staked out a nice patch of soft sand, and promptly fell asleep.

Tooth and Bunny arrived not much later and started up a game of beach volleyball, neither interested in taking a swim just yet. Jack was more eager to get into the water, stripping down to his snowflake-patterned swim trunks and wading in waist-deep, Tooth’s entourage of mini-fairies keeping him company. Sandy watched everyone with a content smile, happy to see the other Guardians enjoying themselves.

And then there was Pitch, sitting under a giant black umbrella and reading a novel. He more or less attended all the Guardian meetings out of deference to Sandy, but he clearly would have preferred to be inside the dream castle instead of on its golden shores. He was even still in his traditional robes, careful to get as little sand on himself as possible.

Sandy transformed his pajamas into a 20s era bathing suit and took a quick dip in the ocean before returning to shore. He hopped over to Pitch and shook off the excess water like a dog.

"Dammit, old man!" Pitch shielded his book with an arm. Sandy gestured to the water and Pitch frowned. “I am _reading_ , in case you hadn’t noticed."

_So take a break and join me._

"Later." Pitch held his book up to block Sandy from view, only to find two large amber eyes peering at him from above its edge. Pitch sighed and set the book down. “Why are you so insistent on me going into the water? You have four other playmates to fool around with." Pitch squinted at the beach. “My mistake, three. North is going to have more than a red nose if he doesn’t wake up soon."

Sandy tilted his head. _I think it’d be fun. You never swim when you visit._

"I never swim, period." A question mark appeared over Sandy’s head and Pitch shrugged. “It’s easier to move through the shadows in the water, of which you barely have any, because of your sand. I’m more comfortable here."

 _Jack is more comfortable on ice, but he’s in the water._ Sandy nodded towards the young Guardian, who was engaged in a playful splash fight with a mermaid.

"Ah, yes." Pitch smirked. “And he’s not particularly good at swimming, is— Ow!" He winced and rubbed his ear where Sandy had pinched it.

 _Just for that, you are coming with me right now._ Sandy looped a stream of dreamsand around Pitch’s wrist and dragged him out from under the umbrella.

"Sandy!" Pitch followed reluctantly, wilting in the sunlight. “I wasn’t kidding, I don’t swim. I don’t think I _can_ swim."

 _So I’ll teach you_. Sandy smiled up at him, then waved a hand at the black robes. _You should put on something more appropriate first_.

"Fine, but it won’t make a difference." Pitch’s robes writhed and slithered, reshaping themselves into a bathing suit that matched Sandy’s, minus the stripes. Sandy’s gaze followed the significantly lower cut of the halter-top appreciatively and Pitch rolled his eyes. “So predictable," he muttered with a small smile. He shook off Sandy’s dreamsand leash and took the smaller man’s hand. “All right, let’s get this over with."

Sandy laughed silently and led Pitch into the ocean. He floated easily towards deeper water, pausing where the ground dropped off dramatically and Pitch could walk no further. _Here is fine._ _Let’s practice floating first_. Sandy let go of Pitch’s hand and lay back comfortably, buoyant as a beach ball.

"Easy for you," Pitch grumbled. He imitated Sandy’s relaxed posture, but the siren song of deep, dark undercurrents kept dragging him down. “This is pointless," he sputtered after slipping below the surface for the umpteenth time. “I’m fear incarnate, not a bloody rubber duck. I’m not meant to float."

 _You just need a little help._ Shimmering sand wrapped around Pitch’s waist and formed a float ring with a cartoonish horse head in front. _Would you like some water wings, too?_ Sandy wiggled his fingers.

Pitch narrowed his eyes and placed a hand on the float, corrupting it into black sand. It slithered off his body and took the form of a shark that nipped at Sandy’s heels before dissolving. “I’m going back to shore."

Sandy took Pitch’s hands into his and pulled gently. _One more lesson. Try treading water._ He kicked his own small legs to demonstrate.

"This is ridiculous," Pitch insisted, but he obligingly copied the smaller man’s movements and found to his surprise that his long limbs were a benefit, rather than a hindrance. Treading water easily, he slid his hands out of Sandy’s grasp and used his arms to propel himself farther from shore, a pleased smile gracing his angular face.

Sandy swam in lazy circles underwater before popping up in front of Pitch like a seal. _Admit it_ , the symbols above his head spelled out as he wrapped his arms around Pitch’s neck. _You’re having fun_.

Pitch scoffed, but the smile on his face didn’t dim. “Perhaps," he replied, smoothing back Sandy’s wet hair with a hand.

Golden sand swirled around their legs as the dream-weaver leaned in and nuzzled the taller man’s collarbone. _We could have even more fun, if you wanted._

"Ah, so there _was_ an ulterior motive to taking me this far from shore." Pitch growled lowly as a tendril of dreamsand slipped into his suit and teasingly caressed his wet skin. “But I won’t be able to keep treading water if we do."

 _That’s okay. I won’t let you drown_. Sandy sealed his promise with a kiss.

When they eventually returned to shore, glowing and content and their swimsuits not quite looking the same as when they had entered the water, Sandy realized he hadn’t finished giving Pitch that swimming lesson, but he was pretty sure the now much more relaxed Nightmare King didn’t mind.


	5. Lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for Quicksand Week Daily Prompt: hurt/comfort. (Spoiler Alert: This is barely hurt/comfort, just fluff.)

Pitch isn’t sure when sharing a bed with Sandy became such a regular occurrence, but he has grown accustomed to the round figure of warmth in his arms each time he succumbs to sleep. At first, Sandy visited him to ward off nightmares, but it has been a long time since a fearling dared attack either of them. Sometimes a sprinkling of dreamsand lulls him to slumber; other times the heavy, tired contentment from their lovemaking is enough.

Sandy often falls asleep afterwards, Pitch’s embrace and slow, steady breathing as soporific as his dreamsand. It is a rare delight to wake and find the dream-weaver’s eyes still closed, his mouth upturned in the faintest of smiles, the soft almost-sound of his sighs as he nuzzles into his pillow or Pitch’s side.

But this time, as Pitch opens his eyes in the twilight of his bedroom and settles his gaze on Sandy’s face, he is not greeted with a glowing expression of peace. Instead, the smaller man’s eyebrows are scrunched together, his lips pursed in a worried pout. Pitch instinctively looks around for the source of Sandy’s troubles, but finds no nightmares tainting an otherwise pleasant dream.

That’s because Sandy isn’t dreaming, Pitch realizes. Something is bothering him unconsciously. He lifts a hand and lightly traces the contours of his lover’s face as if he can somehow wipe away the worry. It’s not right for Sandy to look like that, especially during sleep.

But Sandy’s expression doesn’t change, and Pitch isn’t sure what else he can do. He can take away nightmares, but Sandy isn’t having one. He’s reluctant to wake the little dream-weaver, who deserves a rest as much as anyone.

Pitch’s lips twitch into a small frown as an idea forms in the back of his mind, something he could do to ease Sandy’s sleep. He wants to dismiss it; it’s too silly, too _embarrassing_. Then again, Sandy _is_ asleep; no one would be witness to Pitch’s attempt to return his bedfellow to a more restful state.

He gently pets Sandy’s hair and leans in to softly sing the verse of a lullaby he heard once in passing, changing the words slightly to better suit its recipient:

“The other night dear, as I lay sleeping

I dreamed I held you in my arms.

When I awoke dear, I was mistaken

And I hung my head and I cried.

You are my starshine, my only starshine

You make me happy when skies are gray

You’ll never know dear, how much I love you

Please don’t take my starshine away.”

His voice soothes away some of Sandy’s frown lines, but the unhappy pout remains. Pitch brings his lips to his lover’s ear and with a devious grin croons his favorite verse:

“I’ll always love you and make you happy

If you will only say the same

But if you leave me and love another

You’ll regret it all some day.

You are my starshine, my only starshine

You make me happy when skies are gray

You’ll never know dear, how much I love you

Please don’t take my starshine away.”

A smile finally returns to Sandy’s face. He sighs happily and curls up against Pitch’s chest, a golden heart lazily floating from his head as he sleeps on.

Pitch places a whisper-soft kiss on Sandy’s forehead. “Sweet dreams, starshine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is "You Are My Sunshine", a popular song first recorded in 1939. And yes, those are the real lyrics. It is a rather disturbing song if you listen to the whole thing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for Quicksand Week Daily Prompt: A Wager.

It was some time before Jack was able to share what happened in Antarctica with the other Guardians. It didn’t seem appropriate during the party held at North’s workshop following Pitch’s defeat; everyone was too busy celebrating Jack becoming a Guardian and Sandy returning from the dead, as well as the restored belief of children worldwide. No one wanted to dwell on dark times.

But eventually Sandy wandered over to his memorial and with a solemn face asked the others what had happened in his absence. One by one, his friends shared their stories. Bunny was especially kind about Jack’s role during the Easter fiasco, foisting all of the blame on Pitch and his manipulative ways. It warmed Jack’s heart, but also made him feel guilty, especially remembering Pitch’s poignant plea to join forces, and the sorrowful look in his eyes when Jack refused.

"I shouldn’t have let him get to me like that," he explained after describing their confrontation. Baby Tooth chirped from her spot tucked in the collar of his jacket and he reached up to pat her head. “It just seemed like he was really lonely."

"Do not be troubling yourself too much with such thoughts," North said kindly. “Pitch had tried such tactic before with me."

Jack looked up in surprise. “What, really? When?"

"Many, many years ago, when I was new to protecting children. He complimented me on my swordsmanship, said we could make great team." He crossed his arms over his chest and gave a booming laugh. “As if wonder and fear are same thing!"

"He approached me once, too." Tooth interjected. She smoothed back her crest and in an eerily accurate imitation of Pitch’s accent purred, “What better way to protect children’s memories, my dear, than with the fear that they won’t live to make any more?"

"I hit ‘im with a boomerang before he could start talking," Bunny declared proudly, sticking out his furry chest. “But he did give me the saddest look ever first, like a wallaby that lost its mum."

"Wow, I’m starting to feel like I’m not so special after all," Jack chuckled dryly. He turned towards the Guardian of Dreams. “How about you, Sandy? What sort of spiel did Pitch try to sell you?"

Sandman had the biggest, fiercest scowl that Jack had ever seen on _anyone_. A skull made out of dreamsand floated ominously above his head and his hands were clenched into tiny fists.

"Uh, Sandy?" Jack said, edging back in his seat. He glanced at the other Guardians, who seemed just as disconcerted. “You okay?" He didn’t think it was possible for a frown that deep and angry to exist.

It was a long, tense moment before Sandman’s expression finally relaxed. The skull dissolved and he calmly gestured at North, asking him to continue explaining what had happened in the hours he was missing. North hurriedly picked up where he had left off earlier, not daring to ask what had made Sandman so upset.

The party ended not long thereafter; the Guardians said their goodbyes and returned to their duties.

No one noticed that Sandy’s dream cloud was headed back in the direction of Burgess.

***

Sandy wasted no time following the sound of pounding hooves and whinnying shrieks to the cavernous center of the Boogeyman’s lair. Pitch was cowering in a corner, hands over his head, while nightmares relentlessly swarmed around him. The little golden man formed sand whips and ferociously lashed out at the dark creatures. Those that didn’t immediately dissolve into sparkling dust glared at him balefully before abandoning their prey and darting into the shadows.

Cavern cleared, he made a beeline for Pitch. Despite being bruised and disheveled, the Nightmare King got to his feet and tried to back away. “What are you doing here?" he demanded, tarnished silver eyes scanning the surroundings for a convenient escape route.

Sandy advanced more forcefully, pinning Pitch in place with an angry stare. He let his sand whips disappear so that he could grab the other man’s robes and yank him down to eye level. Pitch trembled before him, wide-eyed, looking like he’d rather still be dealing with the nightmares.

 _How come you never asked me to join forces with you_? Sandy asked with his dreamsand.

Pitch blinked. “…what?” he replied meekly, brow furrowing in confusion.

Sandy let go of Pitch’s robe and pointed aggressively at the symbols above his head, expression unchanging. Pitch straightened up in a hurry. “I can read, old man. Did you really just barge into my lair to—"

 _You asked everyone else_ , Sandy interrupted. His scowl softened into a pout. _Why not me?_

"Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” Pitch sneered. Sandy flushed orange and the Nightmare King’s jaw dropped into a wide grin. “Oh, you _are_ jealous! You truly are!"  Dark laughter spilled out of his throat, cut off abruptly when Sandy floated up to eye-level and poked him squarely in the chest.

_And you aren’t answering my question._

Pitch looked away, expression suddenly guarded. “I never asked because I couldn’t work up the nerve. You know I don’t handle rejection well. Bad enough that the others turned down my offer of friendship, the thought of _you_ saying no…”

Sandman poked him in the chest again, but when Pitch met his eyes, the smaller man was no longer frowning. Half-formed sand symbols danced above his head tentatively before crumbling into dust while he worried his lower lip, his gaze wide and questioning.

Pitch let out an irritated sigh. “I’m not going to spell it out for you, glowworm.” He turned on his heel, chin raised defiantly despite the still visible marks on his ashen skin. “Why don’t you run along, I have business to attend to.”

Sandman cut off his escape, glowing dreamsand blotting out the closest shadows. Pitch growled warningly, but the dream-weaver floated in front of him anyway, clasping small hands together and looking up at him shyly.

_I want to hear what you would say if you did ask me._

Pitch’s mouth pinched into a sour frown, but Sandman watched him expectantly until he slouched in defeat.

“Gods, you’re really going to make me do this,” he muttered, running a hand over his face. With a tired exhalation, he straightened his shoulders and then fixed Sandman with a piercing stare.  “Sandy,” he intoned, his voice velvety smooth, “How long have we known one another? Millennia? Far longer than the Guardians have known you. And I _do_ know you. I know what power lies in you.”

He reached out and brushed his hand along Sandy’s jaw, causing the smaller man to shiver. “And I know what fear lies in you, too. Are you ever lonely, little man? The children believe in you, but they never see you, only your dreams. The Guardians see you, but they don’t always understand your sand. Not like I do.” 

Pitch closed the distance between them, breath hot on Sandman’s ear. “I’ve been watching you for so long… I long for your light, Sandy. I want to tangle it in my shadows. Think how much brighter your dreams would shine contrasted against my nightmares. In fact—“ he swallowed, his soft purr catching slightly, “With little effort, they could merge together and become one.”

He stepped back, his confident façade falling like a mask, looking at Sandy with a haunted longing. “So. Will you join me?”

The dream-weaver placed a hand on his jaw where Pitch had touched him. His eyes were calm and clear, and after only a moment’s hesitation, he gave Pitch a solemn nod.

Pitch’s knees began to buckle. “You— you will?” he gasped in disbelief. Sandy caught him in a hug and held on, even as Pitch sank down to a seated position on the cold, stony ground. “You’re being serious? This isn’t some sort of trick?”

 _No trick._ Sandy smiled up at him, then kissed him lightly on the lips before cuddling up into another hug.

Pitch wrapped his long arms around Sandy, hesitant at first, then pressing the other man against him fiercely, his breath coming out in long, uneven hitches. “Not alone,” he whispered, as if in shock.

 _Not alone_ , Sandy agreed, snuggling close.

It took several minutes for Pitch to calm himself. Eventually, he pulled out of the embrace far enough to look down at the other man doubtfully. “You’ll really give up your role as a Guardian to be with me?”

Sandy wrinkled his nose. Who said anything about _that_?

Pitch pursed his lips. “It’s part of the deal, little man. You can’t be with the Nightmare King _and_ protect the children of the world.” Sandy flashed him a gap-toothed grin and Pitch groaned. “Don’t be naïve. What makes you so sure you can do both?”

Sandy pulled Pitch’s face down to his own and gave him another kiss, more exploratory than the first. Pitch closed his eyes and let out a soft whimper of wanting, but before he could deepen the kiss, Sandy pulled away.

Pitch scowled into the other man’s smug face. “Look here, you insufferable creampuff. Don’t think I’m so starved for affection that I’ll— ah!” Sandy’s hands had wormed their way into Pitch’s robes and were tracing blissful patterns along his sides. “Stop that! There are rules to this partnership!”

Sandy nuzzled Pitch’s jaw before kissing him a third time. Pitch snaked his fingers into Sandy’s hair and held him in place as they fought for dominance with lips, teeth, and tongues. It was some time before they parted, both of them flushed and dazed, unsure of who won that round, and ultimately not caring.

“You make a good point, I’ll concede that,” Pitch panted, holding his little dream-weaver against him tightly. “But I think I need a little more convincing.”

Sandy grinned playfully before initiating another kiss.

***

When Jack crossed paths with Sandy a few days later, he was relieved to see his friend in good spirits. “Hey, little man,” he greeted cheerfully, swooping over to the dream cloud. “You’re looking more glowy than usual.”

Sandy beamed and beckoned Jack to join him. The winter sprite landed with a soft whump.  “Hey, listen. Sorry for, uh… for bringing up hard feelings of Pitch never asking you to join the dark side.” He frowned to himself and shook his head. “Nope, still sounds just as weird as it did in my head. Oh well.”

Sandy giggled silently and Jack sighed, relieved. “I’m glad you’re over that. I mean, really, it’s for the best. Who knows what sort of messed up stuff he’d suggest to you.”

Jack watched in puzzlement as his fellow Guardian blushed a deep shade of orange before doubling over in silent laughter. The winter sprite sat back and silently mused that it was probably going to be another 300 years before he really understood the diminutive dream-weaver. And even then, some things would probably be better left a mystery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My original idea for this story was an angsty prequel in which Pitch asked Sandy to be his partner and Sandy refused. And then I thought, Hmm, what if Pitch asked everyone ELSE at some point to join forces with him EXCEPT Sandy.
> 
> This idea was more fun to write. :)


	7. The Long Way Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quicksand Week Bonus: Dumb Bird Husbands!
> 
> Er, that is, an AU in which Sandy and Pitch are tooth fairies. Go here for the full scoop: http://whentheoceanmetsky.tumblr.com/post/53886252440/okay-so-i-actually-drew-dumb-bird-husbands-no-i

It was the color that Jack noticed first; the splotch of yellow against the freshly fallen snow in the woods just outside Burgess. A butterfly, he thought as he swooped down to the forest floor, but its body was too round and it wasn’t the right season for butterflies. He spied some feathers as he gently brushed snow off the half-buried figure, but he had never seen a bird with little human hands.

A fairy, Jack realized, finally taking the entire creature into view, a little blond fairy with a broken wing, and possibly a broken arm, too. The poor thing was clearly in pain, and when Jack crouched down to examine him, he squeaked in fear.

"Hey, little guy, it’s okay," Jack murmured, wondering how he was going to lift the fairy out of the snow without jostling his wing and making his injuries worse. “I’m not going to hurt you."

He caught sight of something feathery and black out of the corner of his eye just before it dive-bombed his head.

"Ow!" Jack rubbed the spot where he had been hit, then ducked as the creature tried to slam into his head again.  He caught a gust of wind and twisted this way and that to avoid further attacks, but the slender dark-feathered fairy was persistent, chittering at him angrily until he backed off. “Alright, you win! Jeez.”

Puffing up his crest, the fairy glared at Jack warningly before darting down to the injured fairy’s side. He ran both hands over his companion’s feathers and chirped agitatedly, worry on his beaky face. The smaller fairy warbled a few feeble notes but otherwise didn’t move.

Jack tried approaching again and the dark fairy bared his pointy teeth. “Easy," the winter sprite said, holding up his hands in appeasement. “I just want to help."

The fairy narrowed his eyes, then tilted his head as if to say, “Go on…"

"I know a fairy, a really big one. I think she can help your friend get better. Can I take you both to her?"

The dark fairy looked suspicious, but when the one beneath his hands let out a high-pitched groan, his crest drooped and he reluctantly nodded.

"Okay." Jack carefully scooped up the injured fairy. “I’ll carry your friend in my hands. You can ride in my hood if you want."

The dark fairy sniffed in disdain. He settled himself in the crook of Jack’s elbow instead, leaning forward so that he could keep a protective hand on his mate.

"Suit yourself," Jack smiled nonchalantly. With a silent call to the wind, he rose up and sailed toward Tooth’s palace.

~*~

Tooth was thankfully home and not out collecting teeth herself. She gently bandaged up the tiny colorful fairy and placed him in a nest lined with her own feathers while both Jack and the black-feathered fairy watched. The dark fairy’s chirping was incomprehensible to Jack, but Tooth understood him just fine, occasionally placating him with comforting words while he hovered close by, iridescent wings buzzing franticly.

"He’ll be okay," she announced once she was done.  "He just needs to rest for a while and let his wing heal. Bunny probably has a salve that will speed things up…"

"I can get it," Jack offered, but Tooth shook her head.

"I already sent a couple of my girls to his warren. But thanks."

"No problem." Jack looked at the nest. The darker one had already climbed in and was curled up against his companion, gently preening his yellow crest and whistling soothingly. “Do you know where these guys came from? The only fairies I know about are yours."

"That’s the strange thing," Tooth replied, frowning thoughtfully. “They _are_ mine. Or, they’re tooth fairies, anyway. But obviously not from here, even though the bigger one claims he knows me."

"Huh." Jack watched the two fairies as they cuddled together, the smaller one yawning sleepily. “They seem kinda familiar in a weird way."

"Yes," Tooth agreed, tapping her chin with a finger. “Awfully cute, too. I always wondered what it would be like to have boy fairies in addition to girls." She smiled at Jack. “I’m glad you brought them here.  I’ll let you know when the little one has healed."

"Thanks, Tooth." He was happy to know that the fairy would recover, but he was also itching to get back to his duties. “See you soon."

~*~

Baby Tooth found him a few days later and led him back to Tooth’s palace. The yellow-crested fairy was indeed fully healed, flitting about happily with a few of Tooth’s daughters in a dizzying game of tag. He paused long enough to wave at Jack before chasing after another fairy, intending to make her ‘It’.

Jack waved back, amused. “Where’s your friend?" he asked, then yelped as a familiar black shadow buzzed past his ear. “Speak of the devil," he smirked, turning to look at the dark-feathered fairy hovering close to him and frowning sullenly. “How come you’re not playing with the others?"

The winged creature shot Jack a withering glare. Man, that fairy _really_ reminded him of somebody…

The blond fairy popped up in front of his grumpy friend and engulfed him in a warm embrace, then planted a kiss on his pointy nose. The darker fairy flushed purple, even as he smiled shyly and nuzzled the short white feathers under the other fairy’s ear.

"Cute," Jack laughed, watching as the two fairies clasped hands and smiled at one another. Baby Tooth chirped from the hood of his jacket. “Guys, I’m going to take you back to the woods where I found you. Do you think you can get home from there?"

The yellow-crested fairy nodded eagerly, then hesitated and scratched his head in confusion. His companion rolled his eyes and chirped in the affirmative, looking much more confident about finding their way back.

"Okay, hop on then." The two fairies settled in the hood beside Baby Tooth and Jack headed to the woods outside Burgess.

~*~

The trip didn’t take long, and soon enough Jack and Baby Tooth were saying their goodbyes to the unusual fairies. The yellow-crested one ruffled Jack’s hair with tiny hands before giving his head a hug and whistling a happy tune.

"You’re welcome. It was nice to meet you," Jack smiled. He looked over at the dark-feathered one who was staring at him with arms crossed. “Still think I’m going to eat you or something?”

The fairy screwed his face up in irritation, but with a pointed look from his companion, he sighed and bowed his head in thanks.

Jack’s smile grew and the fairy recoiled, as if disgusted by the sight of Jack’s perfect, white teeth. He took the smaller fairy’s hand and chirped excitedly. Without further ado, the two of them flew up above the forest and into the night sky, disappearing from sight.

Baby Tooth broke the silence with a few thoughtful chirps and Jack blinked. “Yeah, they _do_ look a lot like Pitch and Sandy. Huh.” She chirped again and Jack laughed, shaking his head. “No, no way. You’ve been reading too many romance novels.” He tickled under her chin. “C’mon, let’s go spread some fun and see if there are any teeth that need collecting.”


End file.
